


The Path Not Taken

by SirRealArthurNudge



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:55:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirRealArthurNudge/pseuds/SirRealArthurNudge
Summary: Ciri accidentally strays into a world similar to her own but where she'd taken very different directions. Confronted by this, she forced to come to terms with feelings she'd buried deep within...
Relationships: Avallac'h | Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha/Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon
Comments: 11
Kudos: 39





	1. A Step Too Far in the Spiral

"That fucking hurt," Ciri groaned before attempting to drag herself free from the densely covered ground she'd landed on with a terrible thud not five minutes before.  
  
It had knocked the very air from her lungs on impact, a condition that left her chest pained with the deep breaths of cool air she gulped down; and a very sore rear.  
  
Once she somehow managed to keep to her feet, Ciri took the time to see where she'd desperately warped to.  
  
The fight she'd been in had appeared to be almost hopeless. Set upon by bandits which she'd have no trouble dealing with only to have that fight interrupted for both parties by a pair of Garkains that arrived with enraged bloodlust to the slaughter. Ciri had warped away, leaving the bandits to their fate with their howling screams and curses marking her exit.  
  
And now... she had no idea. She'd just desperately thought of somewhere, anywhere, and her ability had sent her there. To somewhere.  
  
Ciri found herself deep in woodland with its rick canopy of emerald leaves swaying in the breeze, letting in quick snatches of light that dappled the quiet forest floor with its fleeting brilliance. She took a breath and reveled in the familiar smells that gave some comfort.  
  
With a body exhausted and pained, Ciri decided against risking another warp of the scale she'd just done. Which meant finding her way back to civilization on foot.  
  
A distant rumble of carriage wheels gave Ciri a direction to move in at least. After briefly checking her sword, the gift from Geralt to mark her as a Witcher true, Ciri set off through the thick undergrowth towards what she hoped was a road or path.  
  
The carriage she had heard was long gone by the time she arrived at the wide dirt track that seemed to split the woods in twain.  
  
After a moment of indecision, Ciri decided to follow the direction she roughly guessed the cart traveled in. At least that way led to possibly a village or the very least people. She could handle people Ciri mused. As she trod heavily along the dusty track with well-worn grooves from many traveling caravans, Ciri thought of her horse. She missed Kelpie but knew that Geralt would take care of her until she returned.  
  
She wondered when would Geralt and Yenn send out the search parties before she snorted at the thought. Her visit to Toussant had been eventful enough already. She just hoped she wasn't too far from the province.  
  
Eventually, the woods began to thin, the track began to widen and suddenly she found herself facing out onto a plain and a familiar city.  
  
"Damn it," she muttered. Nilfgaard, the capital of its namesake empire, in all its grandeur stretched out before her. She pondered how likely it was that she could make her way through unnoticed.

Emhyr believed her dead, a fact in her favor, and one she wished it to remain that way. If she could find an inn, hopefully not in the city proper, then at least she could rest her tired body and prepare to transport herself back to Toussant when ready.  
  
But even carefully laid plans can fall short, not that this particular one was anything short of hasty.  
  


* * *

  
Ciri happened upon what seemed a perfect opportunity in an inn sited at a crossroads connecting her dirt path to the more civilized paved roads of the empire leading to that ominous distant city.  
  
After getting a bed alongside some food and drink, Ciri took a spot at the hearth and rested her weary body. Outside, the light was growing scarce as the brilliant orb that cast it became hidden behind the mountains.  
  
Another drink, she thought, then sleep. No sooner had she rose from her comfortable spot by the blazing fire and made her way through the mingling crowd to where the innkeeper was roughly doling out drinks when she was grabbed firmly by her arm.  
  
Tipsy and tired, Ciri couldn't react with her usual immediate violence to such an act until she was dragged out into the more frigid air of the outdoors. Her hand swiftly went to her blade but found instead the sword gone and in the hands of the one who had accosted her.  
  
"Avalloc'h?" she hiccuped.  
  
The elf peered at her oddly. "What are you doing here of all places?"  
  
"You mean what are you doing here. I'm having a drink."  
  
Those eyes of amber narrowed as a familiar and harsh disapproving look crossed his face. "And the children? Abandoned by you?"  
  
Ciri blinked. "Sorry? What children?"  
  
"The... where have you come from?"  
  
"I was in Toussant if you must know. Spending time with Geralt and Yen. I didn't mean to come here if I've somehow stepped on your bloody toes."  
  
Something seemed to register in his mind as a dawning look of comprehension crossed his face. "You were what I was seeking," Avalloc'h muttered. "The anomaly."  
  
"I don't need to stand here and take your... your elven insults and bullshit! I did what you asked. Your boogeyman is gone. Now leave me to my cups in pe-"  
  
Everything for Ciri stopped as Avalloc'h suddenly and decisively pressed the index fingers of his right hand into a very sensitive nerve behind her left ear.  
  
Catching her body easily after she'd slipped into unconsciousness, he whistled for his horse and heaved her limp body up onto it. A few hurried words in the elder tongue was sufficient to put the beast into a desperate sprint north.  
  


* * *

  
She was warm. Lovely and warm and so comfortable.  
  
Ciri stretched out under the soft covers and moaned as her muscles pulled pleasurably.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open and then suddenly she shot up out of a bed that looked nothing like the flea-ridden one she'd rented near Nilfgaard. In fact, this entire room was not what she expected. Warm and well-taken care of.  
  
_A home_ , she mused as her bare feet touched the cool smooth wooden floor. Her next thought was of clothes but found quickly that hers were missing and she was in fact in some sort of loose soft gown for sleeping.  
  
Distant voices murmured and the pattering of rushing feet echoed from outside the thick wooden door.  
  
Ciri gingerly got to her feet while she reached for her sword, her blade helpfully propped up on a nearby chair. Ciri was about to berate her kidnappers' stupidity for leaving her the blade when she remembered.  
  
Avalloc'h. He'd been there. Insulting her at one point and then... he'd done something clearly as she was no longer where she'd planned on staying.  
  
Ciri had barely time to react when the distant footsteps were no longer distant but instead approaching fast. She put one hand on her blade's pommel while she revved up her anger and sharp tongue to battle the arrogant elf who'd done this.

"Oh! You're awake!" greeted her new visitor as they stepped inside with a beaming smile. Ciri for her part was left stumped and gaping like one of the many fish Geralt had caught at one camp or another during their time together.

"I got some clothes for you," continued the confounding stranger. "Mine obviously. Your garments are still drying. Cleaned as well as the Aen Elle do to their finery. Crevan just loves turning this place into a mess of elven runes. Handy, I will admit. Hot water always blissfully available."

Her identical twin turned around from where she'd been placing the small pile of clothes on the dresser for Ciri to wear. "So... it's odd... seeing myself I mean. I imagine it's the same for you. You could only just imagine my surprise when Crevan brought you in last night."

Ciri nodded. "I... I'm not quite... what's going on? Is this some twisted game by Avalloc'h ? That basta-"

"Stop!! That's not what's happened. You've just traveled too far in the Spiral. You fell into another path that you didn't take but I did. That's all," this other Cirilla barked abruptly. "Crevan had nothing to do with this other than bringing you here to safety. Relative safety at least."

Ciri sank down on the chair with hand loosening at last from the pommel of her blade. "I can't believe what I'm seeing."  
  
"No more than I."  
  
Before either could speak again, the wooden door burst open once more and in rushed a girl of no more than three years with long ashen tresses.  
  
She ran for the other Ciri, giggling and eager to relate to her some news or story.

The girl stopped dead when she caught sight of Ciri slumped in her chair before she gushed, "Momma! Why does that lady have your face?!"


	2. A Different Path

Watching them was unsettling to say the least.

Her mind variously described it as disturbing; horrifying; appalling; vomit-inducing... and, to Ciri's internal horror, other far softer words coupled with emotions that pulled at the most vulnerable parts of her heart.

Yet in spite of her internal confusion, as she sat in the warm and bright kitchen that was filled with the inviting smell of baking bread, Ciri could not stop smiling to herself.

She was thoroughly amused as Avallac'h, in remarkably casual clothes for any Aen Elle let alone one of his status, attempted to tend both to what he was baking and the two small children that scampered around at his feet.

 _Two beautiful children_ , Ciri had to concede with a suddenly painful heartbeat. Children that belonged to this Avallac'h and her other self, both with thick heads of wavy blonde hair that hid the very elven ears she glimpsed from time to time. 

The oldest, a boy of six years that they had called Fionn in honor of the almost glowing white-blonde hair he had been blessed with, was far more reserved than his younger sister.

Blathnaid on the other hand was full of youthful confidence; happily paired with being loud and quite brash for her age. She had eagerly pressed Ciri for more information as to why she had the same face as her mother – no answer given being good enough for the child.

But Fionn... well, he was very much in the mold of Avallac'h himself but with a quietly understated warmness of heart that expressed itself in the small niceties he would do, such as distracting his sister from torturing their visitor further, and offering Ciri more food when he spied her breakfast plate empty.

More to Ciri's horror had been seeing the easy relationship between this Avallac'h and his Ciri, from gentle knowing touches on arms, hips, and waists; to small kisses taken secretively when they believed no one watching.

"I must apologize to you," Avallac'h addressed to her when he'd finally managed to retrieve what he had baked and left it to cool on the counter where it would be unmolested by tiny hands. "I meant no offense when I referred to you as an anomaly."

Ciri smirked. "I sorta guessed that this morning. There's no need to apologize."

The elf gave her a disconcertingly warm smile, one that jerked her heart into a quicker beat and threatened to leave a distinct blush on her cheeks.

"I offer it nonetheless. I know we've not had much time to discuss the situation at hand but..." Avallac'h glanced at his children fussing with indecision over some pastries their mother had offered them in replacement of the fresh bread they had been denied, "... The children and I will be going out for some air shortly. To give you and Zireael time to talk. If you have any questions upon my return, please do voice them to me. I will do my best to answer or at least seek out those answers for you."

"Thank you. You're... this's weird."

He tilted his head with a faint confusion at which Ciri's heart felt another unfamiliar twinge.

"It's not you!" she gushed out. "And yet it is you at the same time. At least, not the you that's here."

Avallac'h gave a tight smile, one accompanied by an almost knowing look in his eyes. "Ahh. I see. It will be easier perhaps once we know what is different between us. "

He turned his attention to the children with faces smeared with sugary coating and crumbs from their sweet treat. "Come along, little ones. Today's adventure awaits."

* * *

"So... you and Avallac'h," Ciri brought up immediately after they had sat down at the table in the now almost silent kitchen.

Her doppelganger nodded. "Myself and _Crevan_. Avallac'h is too strange at this stage. Perhaps you should call me Zireael to make things easier for both of us."

Ciri smiled. "If you wish. I just... how did this happen? I mean he's... you're..."

"It was long. Complicated." Zireael stopped briefly to sip at her cooling tea, adjusting a lock of stray hair behind her right ear before adding, "And not without pain. A number of painful adjustments actually. For the both of us. Were you kept in Tir Ná Lia too? To have children by their king?"

Ciri nodded to her opposite's clear relief. "So at least we are the same at some points. Auberon couldn't... he... there was nothing he could take that would inspire him to perform his duty. The longer he took, the more complicated and political it became for the Aen Elle. Crevan saved Auberon's life at one stage. Eventually their King just couldn't bear to even look at me anymore, a living reminder of his failure. Not exactly a confidence booster I can assure you. Auberon then asked Crevan to take his place."

Ciri blinked. "So he was told to father the child?"

"He was but he chose not to right away. At the time Crevan believed that I was perhaps too young to deliver the child safely so he asked for my consent to hold off for a number of years. Apparently all the children born to his family line have been unusually large for Aen Elle. Fionn and Blathnaid have proven their father right in the fullness of time. So I spent the intervening days in Tir Ná Lia learning all I could. "

Ciri groaned. "That sounds thrilling."

"You know it actually was after a time. The court intrigues! The silly dramas! For all their haughtiness, they are far too similar to us. And they hate that too. I loved riling them up over it. I learned that to them a sharp tongue can be more wounding than a sword strike."

Ciri nodded slowly, watching her copy's face for every inch of emotion. "So when did you start th-"

"When I was barely twenty. He could delay it no longer, not with Auberon pressuring him," Zireael interrupted to save Ciri's blushes. "I didn't become with child for near half a year and he spent every night, bar when he was needed elsewhere, with me. Affection had been creeping up long before any of that but had solidified into what we have now during those first six months. Then it became all so messy."

Zireael physically grimaced, her body curling in on itself with the weight of her memories. "I thought I could do it. Leave the baby go, I mean. So bloody confident that I'd just walk away with no consequences. They wanted him to be taken from both of us at birth and given to Auberon as his adopted son and heir. I couldn't bear it."

Ciri watched a fleeting panic-stricken look cross Zireael's face, a reminder of painful days that still held power over her. "I stopped sleeping shortly after I first felt Fionn kick. Terrible night terrors followed after and I just found myself constantly angry at everything... everyone even. Crevan found his thoughts and feelings bent the same way as mine. We left Tir Ná Lia before Fionn was born and disappeared into the Spiral."

"You're on the run?"

Zireael nodded. "Unfortunately. That's how Crevan knew about your arrival here. He's set up a system of runes across the countryside that react to the use of the magics needed to transit from world to world. You arrived bearing all the hallmarks of an Aen Elle incursion. You gave him quite a shock. But now, you must tell me. What happened to you? "


	3. Memoria

"No!!! I'm not tired!"

Ciri bit back a chuckle while watching an immense battle of wills play-out with Blathnaid defying her father regarding her bedtime.

The child pouted her cherub lips, folded her arms across her chest before stamping her bare feet on the polished wooden floor in a strange facsimile of adulthood.

"Clearly you're right. You've convinced me with such devasting logic," Crevan replied drolly as he peered down at his child that barely reached his knee in height before reaching down and scooping her up into his arms just before the tears started.

"It's alright to be sleepy, my littlest love. The sweetest of dreams are waiting for you and we'll all be here tomorrow for another day. You won't miss a thing," he murmured to her softly as Blathnaid buried her face into the tunic covering his shoulder.

Her brother on the other hand was happily curled up in blankets next to the roaring fire while pouring over a book, a reasonably heavy tome at that to Ciri's surprise.

The weather had changed for the worst during the evening and now the winds howled just outside the closed shutters. But the home was warm as all of Crevan's hard work with runes kept it unaffected by whatever was happening outside its walls.

Zireael slipped over to her partner, gently running a hand along his hip before she took the small child from him and swiftly took her away to the bedrooms.

Crevan for his part watched them go wistfully before he joined Ciri for a few quiet words. "Obviously I can't say too much," he murmured to her with his eyes focused on Fionn absorbed in his book, "But I believe we can get you home."

"Truly?" Ciri replied eagerly.

Crevan smiled warmly, forcing her heart into another jolt that she fought to control. "Of course. It may take some time and ingenuity on my part but I believe I can trace your way back. The runes that alerted us to your presence have kept a trace of that energy you burst into the world with. Through that energy, I hopefully will be able to find the path you took through the Spiral."

"And from that path... you'll find my home."

"Indeed," Crevan answered with another dazzling smile. "If successful, perhaps a few days. Can you bear with us until then?"

"Oh I think so," she murmured before she dramatically yawned. "I might actually have to follow Blathnaid's example and rest. I don't think I've ever felt so... drained."

"Of course," Crevan said smoothly. "Maybe tomorrow once you've fully rested we can begin the process."

* * *

She didn't know where she was.

A room, dark and all-encompassing. The elegant fireplace housed a glorious blaze that cast dancing shadows around its walls. A bed, large and imposing with sheets of embroidered silk.

Books. Lots of them in fact she pondered. Bookcases that took up a good half of the room while a small couch was placed strategically before the fireplace with side table already in use by two tall fluted wine glasses filled to the brim with a heady burgundy liquid. The wine, she surmised.

The door opened and Crevan entered with haste.

She watched in fascination as he jerked off his outer coverings and boots, tossing the heavy garments into the corner and leaving him more undressed than she'd ever seen him. Undressed but still somehow in the finest clothing she mused, noting the quality of the loose tunic and pants.

That tunic showed off far more than Ciri was comfortable with she realized. Or what her body was alright with.

Crevan gracefully picked up a glass, swirled it gently as he took in its heady odor before he took a mouthful. As he swallowed, a gentle tapping could be heard at his door. "Enter," he barked, facing his guest with his usual defiant confidence.

Ciri watched Zireael tentatively walk in, carrying a large swatch of fabric in hands that would be trembling if she wasn't clutching the bundle tightly to her chest. She appeared tense, completely lost in apprehension as she closed the door behind her.

"What is that?"Crevan asked her carefully, moving to offer her the second glass of wine.

"Jul'zia thought you might have issues... performing," Zireael said dully as she waved her hand to indicate she would not partake of the wine. "She made this to help you through it."

Crevan frowned, placed his own drink back on the table before taking the fabric swatch from her. Opening it up revealed a large sheet with a... hole in it. Large enough for what was needed.

Crevan gawked at it in silence.

"I mean... she was right... right? If you can't find me attractive like Auberon than you don't need to see me. You just need access to the essentials. Kind of her I suppose..." Zireael trailed off, turning to look at something else in a vain attempt to stall her confidence falling her entirely.

* * *

Crevan seemed to snap out of his daze and turned an intense gaze on Zireael who was flushing red in her light nightgown. In the flickering light it was almost transparent, showing off every curve.

Crevan bundled the sheet up before putting it aside. He suddenly lunged forward, grabbed Zireael, and dragged her into a searing kiss.

His hands that gripped her head moved in a strange caressing benediction of their own volition down over her shoulders, waist, hips before they cupped her rear firmly, pressing them hard together so Zireael could have no doubt that Crevan would take her as she was.

He pulled away briefly to take a gasp of air, his eyes scanning over Zireael's dazed and flushed face.

"I've no need for such things," Crevan murmured to her. "I fear only that I may not be as able to curb my desires such as you deserve for this first night. I have no wish to hurt you but... my self-control is not what it once was."

Zireael whispered back, "I don't mind. It feels so good to be wanted. You've no idea what it has been like. I know I shouldn't care what they think but..."

Before any more words could pass between them, Crevan hoisted her up into his arms and threw her lightly onto the bed.

What followed after was mirage of images, sounds, and feelings that Ciri almost couldn't process.

_Desperate mouths gasping against each other._

_Crevan's large hand on pale soft skin, his grip so tight that she could almost see the flesh bruising under his touch._

_Zireael biting down on just above Crevan's collarbone, desperate to stop the animalistic noises that flowed from her throat._

_Slim nails digging in to the skin on Crevan's back, racking down long red lines that crisscrossed his tattoos in chorus with desperate gasping pleas for him to not stop what he was doing._

And just as a quickly as it came, it was over.

The fire which once blazed was now reduced to smoldering embers. The wine still remained in the fine glassware on the table.

As for the bed, it was thoroughly changed. Sheets scattered from it in heaps on the floor with clothes equally as discarded among the piles.

On the bed itself was just a few pillows on which Crevan reclined with a single sheet of silk that covered his modesty and that of Zireael who, unlike Crevan, was fast asleep. She was curled into him with head resting on his chest.

For his part, a smiling Crevan was awake with one hand keeping Zireael pressed against him while the other gently stroked her hair, attempting to untangle what he could.

* * *

Ciri woke up with a start, her heart thundering in her chest while a distinct tingling and growing wetness in her lower regions heightened her sensitivity to touch, including the soft sheets that rubbed off her skin.

She remembered going to bed, sharing a private joke with her other self as they passed each other by on the stairs. It was a dream. A very intense and strangely lucid dream.

Ciri managed to recompose herself and flickered her gaze over to the window. Overcast and raining but a new day none-the-less.

"Oh gods..." she muttered, her body still highly aroused and begging her for relief, "... how am I going to survive this..."


	4. This Crevan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left a kudos or comment! It's all really appreciated! :)

She was too close to him. Far to close she realized as her skin rippled in goosebumps that ran almost the length of her body.

But Crevan was so eager to show her the maps he'd made depicting her spiraling path to this world that she couldn't help but let him pull her closer.

Ciri had forgotten most of what was said as her delicate senses were dominated by his very presence beside her.

The heady scent of lavender soap and warm baked bread from that very morning permeated her nose.

Heat seemed to billow out around him, from the taunt flesh covered by the thin but finely tailored tunic and pants that did nothing to hide his lightly muscular frame which had not been wasted away from ill-spent time as a cursed imp.

Ciri watched almost in a daze as Crevan's long scholarly fingers on hands far larger than her own danced across the charts spread out on the table.

In her mind's eye, those same hands were caressing her pale skin and deftly coaxing pleasure from her that she never thought possible.

* * *

"Ciri? Ciri? Are you alright?"

She blinked rapidly as she returned to reality. Crevan was peering at her, his handsome face creased slightly with concern.

"I'm.. I'm fine," she replied after swallowing other words that had been tempted to rush out. "I've been disturbed by dreams lately. I might not be fully focused on this work." Ciri stepped away and anxiously played with her hands while avoiding his gaze. "... sorry," she added.

"Don't be. I imagine this has been a lot to take in. I spoke with Zireael and I know about the state of affairs in your world. I don't wish you to be uncomfortable in my presence. If you'd like, I could-"

"NO!" Ciri gushed out before turning puce with embarrassment. "Just... no. It's fine. Really. That's not what's troubling me."

Crevan nodded but those damnable enchanting eyes of his kept solely focused on Ciri to the detriment of her increasingly red cheeks. "I think that by tomorrow I should have the gate crafted."

Ciri blinked. "That fast?"

"Of course. The gate is a mere child's play for me. The issue will be getting enough magical power behind it to open and then when is the right alignment."

"But that won't be long... right?"

Crevan gave that soft smile that seemed tailored to cause Ciri's heart to leap in her chest. "We have two people in this house connected to the Elder Blood. Four if you include the children but I'm loathed to consider that unless necessary. I believe that you and Zireael combined can give sufficient power to the gateway. For the alignment, I need to do some more divination I fear. But I'm hopeful that I'll have an answer in another day or so."

Ciri laughed softly. "I have no doubt you will. You've... you've never let me down. In spite of everything."

"Long may that continue," Crevan chuckled as he began to skillfully put away the charts and detailed work into heavy protective folders and tubes.

* * *

He glanced at her face and guessed almost immediately the silent query on her lips.

"You wonder why I do this. Correct?"

"Yes!" she gasped with a small laugh. "This is your basement and I've never seen the children down here."

"But they do come here often. Usually to keep me company, " he replied softly, fondness overflowing in the deep timbre of his voice as he put away the last pieces securely. "When I first built this place, Fionn was barely six months old."

Crevan ran a hand along the sturdy stone wall that was not hidden by bookcases or shelving. "Funny to think of it now."

"He must have been a beautiful baby," Ciri murmured, watching Crevan's face break out in a devasting smile as his own thoughts bent towards the past.

"Oh, he was. He was this small, unassuming little creature that had both Zireael and myself ensorcelled from the moment he was born. I had only this room and the one directly above completed when Fionn decided to make his way into the world. All watertight and sealed thankfully."

Crevan's right hand drifted to a small folio full of loose sheets. After briefly skimming through it, he selected one, admired it thoroughly before handing to Ciri for her perusal.

It was Zireael with hair unrestrained and cast about her bare shoulders tempestuously.

Her focus was not on some distant object or the artist rendering her image but instead on the baby latched on to her right breast. A baby with light hair that curled at the ends and had such small delicate features that he looked for all the world as though cast from fine porcelain.

"This is..."

"Fionn. Shortly after he was eight weeks old."

Ciri handed the sheet back over carefully as though she feared ripping the delicate page by mishandling alone. "It's beautiful, Crevan. And wonderful to have it. To remember."

"Indeed," he said with a sigh, casting one last gaze over it before returning it to the folio and that in turn to its safe spot on the shelf. "I have many such drawings of my children and Zireael. I hope in time that I may be able to create a more fitting tribute to them."

* * *

Ciri bit her lower lip, worrying it with her teeth as she sought the right words for her next question. "I pray your indulgence with this but... do you still think of Lara Dorren?"

Crevan gave a weak laugh. "When do I not? But not perhaps in the manner you believe I do."

"No?"

"I think of her alone on that hillside with a newborn baby in her arms. Her newborn baby. And I think of how afraid she must have been. Knowing that she was dying and that she didn't know what would become of her child."

Crevan turned his stare on Ciri. "Often when I think of Lara these days, it is intrinsically coupled with thoughts of Fionn and Blathnaid. Of their future and what I must do to secure it. And... if I had been a better person, a better friend to Lara and to Cregennan... heh. Life is full of such moments of what if."

"But if you changed any of it," Ciri replied carefully, "then you likely would have never known Zireael because she wouldn't exist."

Crevan smirked. "And that is why I said I only sometimes think about it. I did not say I'd change it. Well, perhaps I would if I could guarantee certain outcomes."

* * *

A short time later, Ciri carried away a number of heavy tomes with her from Crevan's study; the books having pages helpfully selected and marked by Crevan for her own research and practice.

Apparently Zireael was quite proficient in the use of the Elder Blood, her time in Tir na Lia well-spent.

And now Ciri had to increase her own control exponentially before the time came to activate the gate between worlds.

As she lugged the books up to the airy bedroom that had quite become her own, dodging the laughing children who scattered past her at the run as their father called them to his side, Ciri was struck with inspiration.

Perhaps Zireael could help her in her efforts! Learning from herself must surely be better than learning from Avallac'h or Yenn.

Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't kill each other.


	5. Seperation

Ciri was stretched on the damp earth, sweaty, drained and panting with exertion.

Above her, the sky was a vibrant blue with small fluffy clouds that drifted lazily across it. Sometimes distant black dots of migrating birds would dance between them.

Just audible to her right ear, the sounds of laughing children among the bird song and gentle rustling of leaves as Zireael's young ones were returning home from a forest excursion with their father.

"Need a hand?"

Ciri flickered her gaze to Zireael who was smiling down at her, one hand reached out to help get her to her feet. One she accepted.

"You're doing well," Zireael commented after handing Ciri a cup of water, fresh from the ever-flowing well just to the side of the yard that was riddled with Crevan's rune-work.

"Am I? I feel like I've just been going in circles."

Her twin grinned. "Oh you're moving in a straight line! Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not true."

Zireael gripped Ciri's shoulder in comfort. "You got this. You really do. You've already gained so much more control over it these last few days. Everything else will need time and practice. It's a lifelong task as I was often told in Tir Na Lia."

Ciri sank down to sit on a nearby bench, sipping the cool water while Zireael tidied away what they'd used in practice. "Do you think we're ready? To open the gate?"

Zireael nodded. "I believe so. No harm in trying at least. The gate that Crevan has created will only open once enough energy has been amassed and it connects to your world."

"So... tomorrow then."

"Feeling nervous?"

Ciri blinked and in a moment of sudden but pure honesty replied, "Sad to be leaving you all. I've really enjoyed being here. Feeling like part of something."

The soft knowing smile from this other version of her was enough to let Ciri know that she understood.

"It'll be alright. You always get to chose, Ciri. When you get back to your world, you can be all that you want to be. You can have all that you wish for. But first you need to figure what that is."

* * *

That night and it's meal was subdued. The children didn't notice as they were full of talk and chatter and the joys of life.

The adults at the table were more circumspect, reviewing all contingencies and possibilities for the following day.

They would start at dawn. The gate was readied. It needed only the power behind it to activate it.

Ciri herself had a restless night, her dreams filled with nightmares borne of anxiety. She slipped in and out a fitful sleep until at last the sky colored with the vibrant hues of dawn and it was time.

The gate was carefully inscribed on the outer wall of rock next to the small home. After a small breakfast and a final encouraging talk, they got to work with two confused and bleary eyed children who sat on the porch and watched.

"Focus," Crevan urged to Ciri and Zireael, both pulling on the power within their blood and channeling it as best they could to the gate.

Crevan gently guided it along the etched and winding path he'd described in runes on the wall, urging it along with flashes of his own power until at least every section glowed with magic.

He then added fully his power to that already coursing through it, pushing and willing the gate to open.

For a moment, it appeared that it wouldn't. That this attempt had failed. But there came a sputter, a strange jolt in the fabric of reality and then the gate burst into life.

Ciri laughed, a joyous and echoing one that matched the broad smile on her face.

"We did it! Zireael! ... Zireael?"

Ciri's joy faded as she glanced over at the unresponsive Zireael who was clutching her two confused children to her side while staring out at the forest. "No no no!"

"What's wrong?"

It was Crevan who answered her, gaze focused at the hazy boundary of the small homestead. "They are here. They've found us. I never... they must have been so close and when we... damn."  
  
"I can't give them up! I won't!" Zireael said, her voice wavering as she fought to keep it steady.

The hazy outline of the forest was being more clear. Tall figures, haunting and distorted.

"The Wyld Hunt..." Ciri murmured in horror before Crevan stood in front of her, blocking her vision and forcing her to look at him directly.

"Promise me."

"Promise what?" she asked, her face creased in confusion.

"Promise me that you'll take them with you. That you'll help them find a new life."

Ciri blanched. "But..."

"I will stay here. Distract. Delay. Take Zireael and the children. Help them find a home and peace in your world."

"But what about you?" Ciri replied in horror, seeing the resolution on his face.

"I'm not important. They are. Promise me, Cirilla."

She swallowed, before nodding. She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him how brave he was, how his love for his family was inspiring... how she realised so much about herself from her time here... but there was no more time.

It swiftly became a clamor of confusion, of children crying and fearful; of their father hugging each, telling them of his love and how they now needed to go through the gate. Of all those desperate and hurried words, the sweetest being the lie of how everything would be alright.

As Ciri helped the confused children through, Crevan was murmuring something to Zireael before pressing a breathless kiss to her lips. Almost as soon as it started, it was over. Zireael was dumbfounded, the shock borne openly on her face as she desperately attempted to grab his arm and prevent him from leaving her side.

But Crevan still stepped away and used what remained of his strength to erect a barrier. Before them, the Wyld Hunt had emerged in all their glory. They prowled like wolves, dark shadows of elves that pressed Crevan's hasty barrier for weaknesses. 

Time was not on their side. Ciri grabbed Zireal's arm and tugged her towards the gate.

"Come on! We have to go! Don't let his sacrifice be in vain!"

Zireael wasn't looking at her but instead the hooded figure of Crevan who was desperately maintaining the barrier with what little strength he had, buying them as much time as he could.

She suddenly reached and removed Ciri's leather gauntlet. "I'll need this. To find you after. He won't be able to escape on his own. I'd lose him forever," Zireael whispered. "Take care of them until we come back for them. You're the only one I can trust. Keep them secret. Keep them safe!"

"NO! Zir-"

Ciri couldn't finish the words as she was shoved into the gateway, falling again through the worlds.

* * *

She didn't quite remember the full journey. Her heart and mind was being torn by the devastating realization that Zireael and Crevan were there, trapped in their world and fighting off the Aen Elle while their children.... the children!

Ciri had no sooner pondered the children when she landed back into the world with muted huff. After catching her breath, Ciri poked her head up and looked around. Back at the forest at least. The one she remembered certainly but not where she'd left it initially.

A fact she was grateful for when she spotted Fionn and Blathnaid huddled together nervously, anxious for their parents return. Turning her head to the right, Ciri could make out Geralt's villa in all it's glory.  
  
"I know that this's very confusing but it'll be alright. I swear it. Come along. Come with me," she called softly to the children.

Blathnaid with tussled blonde locks, red rimmed eyes and cheeks wet with tears went to her side easily enough. Her small hand latched onto Ciri's own, clinging as though she feared that she'd disappear too.

Fionn on the other hand stood where he was like a sentinel, rooted to his spot and steadfast.

"Come on," she called again, hand outstretched to him.

Fionn's vibrant tear-filled eyes peered at her suspiciously before that head of beautiful blonde hair shook. "Mama and Papa are coming. I want to wait. What if they turn up and we're gone? I want to go home."

Ciri sighed before she stepped lightly over the short distance to his side and knelt before him. "They've just got something they need to do first. But they are coming back. Trust me. Your Mama asked me to take care of you for now. Just over there..." she gestured with her hand towards the villa glistening the sunlight, "... is my dear friend's home. That's where we are going. We'll see everything from there I promise. Please, Fionn. Don't worry. They'll find us."

The boy gave a strange muted gasp, a desperately hidden sob she realized before he gently reached up and took her free hand.

As they set off for what was to Ciri the glorious safety of Geralt and Yenn's home, Fionn slowly followed just slightly behind her, always stopping and starting, looking back in hope that his parents might appear. 

Ciri's heart broke for him.

But there was hope as long their parents stayed together. Hope was a powerful magic in its own right.


End file.
